


Transverse orientation

by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Category: Lucifer (Comic)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, I felt compelled to fix them and I'm sorry, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:43:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perryvic/pseuds/perryvic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he didn't know better, he would swear that it was a Gate. But no-one would open a Gate to creation again, not after everything that had happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transverse orientation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevenofspade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenofspade/gifts).



Time, the passage of time, the flow of motion, everything had ceased to be. It was travel, relentless, unyielding, unending. For the sake of it, after his last lofty refusal to supply his Father with that last thing he could deny him -- experience outside of his own grasp. There was nothingness, true vast void, without color or noise or wind on his skin, which was merely a manifestation of his will by then, as everything he thought of himself as was. When something began to loom up in the distance, a presence, a welcoming sense, he headed towards it out of curiosity.

It seemed faintly familiar and prickled at his interest because it reminded him of a feeling he had before, something he had been involved in himself in the past. If he didn't know better he would swear that it was a Gate. But no-one would open a Gate to creation again, not after everything that had happened.

And who? Who had opened a door, and why? He was outside of creation, so far outside, outside of the womb of limbo which creatures pre and post creation clung to while waiting for their next shot. A door into the void should be teeming with those seeking to slip between the cracks, but it wasn't, if that was its purpose. It gleamed white and hard and brilliant in the empty nothing, tempting him closer.

Someone would have had to make an immense effort to place a Gate here. He was wary of things that seemed too good to be true and this manifestation seemed altogether too wholesome and bright for the void.

He briefly envisioned a giant yawning trap of his own design, and pulled up abruptly to observe it at a reliable distance, as the potential threat to his solitude that it might have been. 

Nothing happened. The Gate remained, beckoning and attractive in it's solidity. After being so long in a place of raw and mutable potential, Lucifer couldn't help himself. This was something real again, something not sprung from his own mind.

It was change, difference, and he craved that even in the untouched potential he'd floated in for unfathomable stretches. No lamps lit, but one lamp calling to him that he approached the verge of but did not enter. Instead, he bade it good day with a touch to the edge.

It was like a whisper in his mind. _~Lucifer~_ echoed like a call, over and over as if it were some form of charm.

Someone from before, old memories, times he had yielded back to their keepers, their holders, until he had been free again. It threatened to weigh on him, but he leaned in, keeping a hand on the edge and a close balance of himself as he put his face through the gate.

"Now that..." a voice said that he recognized all too well. "...took even less time than I thought. You must be bored Lucifer."

A figure, a being coalesced together, coming to a point of existence not far in front of him.

"That depends on your perception of time." Not standing outside of creation, but within it. His coup, in so many ways, the creator at once beyond and simultaneously less than his Father. "You called me."

"Yeah." Elaine stood there, wearing the same form as he remembered before she had become God. "I thought I would see how you are doing out here swimming around in the primordial soup."

He slipped through a little further, perched between the void and her side of the gate, her creation. "Swimmingly. And you, creator?" Part of him hoped that she held true to what she has learned, still, though he did not know how much 'time' had passed.

There was just a moment of expression in her eyes that he recognized from the days when things had been so simple and she had just been a girl accidentally getting involved with him for simple reasons. "That's a bit formal. I still think of myself as Elaine."

He contemplated his words, because the heaviness of lack of time was on his side, watching her expression. She, too, had experienced the slowing of it, and the pulls and sharp tugs at the same time. He wondered what it felt like for the endless to traipse through her being, her creation. That was a question he'd never had answered. "Good. It suits you."

"I have to have something that is just me," Elaine said with a faint smile. She remained loitering on the threshold with him. "Look at you. How have you been?"

Like a doting family member. "Traveling. Seeing what there is to see."

"And what is there to see in the Void?" she asked. He could feel the sharp vibrancy of existence wrapped around her.

Like a living thing, completely interwoven with her. She embraced that power, in a way Michael had long abandoned. He let the sensation wash over him, let it tingle his senses in a way emptiness hadn't. "Nothing."

"Mmm. Have you had your fill of emptiness?" she said with a hint of wry irony.

He made a noncommittal noise as he leaned slightly further into her creation. "The grass is greener." He had forgotten the intensity of things rather than the half formed potentialities. There were things out there that moved in the darkness. Strange things, the nightmares of insane gods, the ruins of universes abandoned to the gnawing parasites of entropic heat death.

He had looked and stopped and observed and let it pass, let it all pass, or they had let him pass, and that was the question. What next and what now, and the dizzying sensation of a familiar creation curling at the edges of his senses. "I would be an aberration to your creation."

She looked at him with those eyes there were at once the creators' and that of the twelve year old girl who had accidentally summoned the Devil. "No, you wouldn't," she said simply. "How could you be?"

There was no role for him to fill, for he had passed those burdens on to better actors. It was a freedom, in its own way, to be beyond those stages and requirements. "That is perhaps a question you don't want to ask."

"I do and I have," Elaine asked and smiled."You are always welcome in this creation. You are no aberration Lucifer."

He had watched it unfold from a position, if not the exact time, and felt the tug of experience, memories and past which he had not been willing to yield to his father. The scar was his, his past, his decisions, still his. "I will leave again, after a while." He kept a hand on the edge of the door, but curiosity beckoned him further.

"You think someone always has an ulterior motive don't you?" Elaine said by way of an answer. "Plans within plans, within ever convoluted plans."

What he had learned from Yahweh, his Father. From his brother.

He felt the smile touch his face as he looked out across her creation, and then to her again. "Perhaps, perhaps not. Perhaps I know I will be restless again."

"That's okay," she said. "I just wanted you to know you have a Home." Such a simple innocent powerful statement. Even his own Creation had not truly felt like home. He had never been entirely sure why.

Perhaps because of schemes and plans within plans, put in place since before his time, before his own creation. He let his hand slip free of the edge of the door, oddly reminded from the expression on Elaine's being of a child watching a feral cat. "Thank you."

"You're my friend Lucifer," she said. "I've always trusted you. In a strange way I think you are the most honest of all of them. I could rely on you to be. Well, you."

He did smile then, attention focused to regard her manifestation rather than her creation. "I thought for a while that you were putting on rose colored glasses in regards to my nature, but you were surprisingly.... Perceptive."

"I have my moments," Elaine grinned at him. "How many Creators have had friends? Someone independent not afraid to call them on their shit, to stop them getting up their own ass with importance."

Someone not prone to their whims, nor bound in fear and writ and law, or past obligations as her Mona had been. He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I'm not sure if previous creations made room for such a concept. I am willing to try it."

"Good, because I don't know anyone who can do what you do in the same way." Elaine reached out a hand to him. "I'm glad you agreed." She hesitated a moment and said. "I made the Gate because I missed you. No Plan, no idea or anything. I just… missed you."

"That was what I felt." He reached back, clasped her fingers easily. "It called out to me on my travels."

"I don't mind if you get restless," Elaine said squeezing his fingers. "And you know, Creation needs a little bit of...randomness."

"Has it been too calm for you?" He half scoffed. His eyes still functioned as eyes, though his perception was as keen and as deep as it ever had been; Elaine, though, was one with a creation.

"I don't think someone should be too comfortable with themselves," she said, gently drawing him through the threshold. "And being one with everything, well.. It has its moments."

"Tell me what you've learned." He let himself pass through, let himself be pulled back firmly into Creation. It was just another change, not a return to form, but a new undertaking.


End file.
